Harbor Hopping in Southern New England

Our time at Block Island passes fast.   

Sunset at the anchorage in Salt Pond, Block Island

We are in the midst of a severe east coast heat wave, but our ocean surroundings temper the sizzling days that others are experiencing on the mainland. Our recurrent nemesis, laundry and grocery shopping, send us back to Newport for two days, as prices and services on the islands are jacked up for the tourist trade.  Last year an islander commented that they shouldn’t be blamed as they only have two months to make a year’s income.  I’m still pondering the validity of that and suspect pirates still haunt these islands. 

Busy summer day in a packed Newport Harbor

 

Clean and re-stocked, we head back out to Martha’s Vineyard.  Our first stop is the well protected harbor of Lake Tashmo, a salt pond, just west of Vineyard Haven, which is linked to Vineyard Sound by a man-made breech way. It is a narrow and challenging entrance for our deep draft boat, so our friends on Amici have taken soundings when they arrived several days earlier. It appears we need to enter about one hour before high tide, and calculating high tide is also a bit of a trick.  Tashmo’s tides are over an hour different from those at Vineyard Haven which is only a mile away.  The tides and currents in this area are definitely a challenge. Bottom line is that our calculations are accurate, and we make it in without sanding our the bottom of our keel. Tashmo is a tranquil place.  There are a few transient boats like ours anchored, but the majority of boats belong to locals and bob at their permanent moorings. 

The small wooden sloop, Misty, on a mooring at Lake Tashmo

The wooded shoreline hides summer homes, one of which belongs to Diane Sawyer, and shelters song birds active day and night. Friendly commercial fishermen keep their boats in the harbor and chat with us when we are at the dinghy dock. They are a wealth of gossip, the latest being all the preparation going on for President Obama’s planned vacation in August. The first family will be staying at the Alan Dershowitz estate nearby and local contractors are busy installing the security and communications infrastructure to facilitate the visit.  Additionally, the island is laying another electrical cable to the mainland to insure there are no blackouts from the increased power needs.  The locals are astounded by the cost, and all I can say is, “Your tax dollars at work!”

But, with the ongoing heat wave it is humid and buggy – we long for a good stiff breeze which just isn’t going to happen in this protected location. In the relative coolness of the mornings we bike along the shoreline. The torn whatever in my leg is beginning to heal, and sedate biking seems to keep the swelling down. The roads along the headlands that form Vineyard Haven provide spectacular vistas of Vineyard Sound. West Chop is more wooded while East Chop is open and eventually leads to the town of Oak Bluffs with its lively harbor and many Victorian homes.  

Bicycling along the headlands of West Chop

 Afternoons are best spent soaking in the unusually warm ocean waters at the beach next to the breech way.  On our last day there, a strong west wind is blowing, although it is still calm in the anchorage.  Out in the Sound a large fleet of racing boats, participating in the annual Around the Island Race, is passing by with spinnakers flying. In fact, several of the really hot racing boats are literally screaming by. But something weird is happening when they approach the headlands of West Chop.  The currents opposing the wind are kicking up big waves, and the wind accelerates as it rounds the bluffs.  The result is chaos.  Virtually all the boats broach. Several masts are almost parallel with the water for an unnerving length of time, and we witness three spinnakers instantly torn to shreds. Later, talking to one of the crew, we were told they saw puffs close to 40 knots.  It is amazing the carnage wasn’t worse.

The next day our friends on Amici head back to their home in Connecticut, and we move on to Edgartown, another harbor on Martha’s Vineyard. The outside anchorage is perfect in the southwest winds we have been experiencing, sheltered by the curving Edgartown shoreline to the west and Chappaquiddick Island to the east.  We are joined by a number of mega-yachts that can’t enter the inner harbor, 

Ohana, anchored near us, has an awesome waterslide but we weren't invited over.  Boats like this charter for anywhere between $100,000 and $300,000 per week

and we anchor next to the lovely Wild Horses, a newly built wooden, seventy-something foot sloop with traditional styling and gobs of shiny varnish work. 

Wild Horses at sunset outside of Edgartown

The area is great for biking as there are paved dedicated bike trails that take you to the beaches on the southern shore of the island 

South Beach, accessible by a lovely bike path

or north to the six mile long crescent beach that spans the gap between Edgartown and Oak Bluffs.  Best of all, there are virtually no hills! But, the charm of Edgartown is most apparent when you walk the neighborhoods on foot. Many of the houses date prior to 1850 and were once the homes of prosperous whaling captains and crews.  They have been meticulously restored and graced with beautiful gardens.  

Pretty house and gardens fronting on the inner harbor of Edgartown

 

Another home on a quiet back road in Edgartown

A historic hotel guards the entrance to the inner harbor of Edgartown

This may be the prettiest town we have visited on the East Coast. On our final day there the wind is predicted to come out of the north so our idyllic anchorage will no longer be tenable.  We head into the inner harbor and pick up a mooring. We leave the next morning with a stiff northerly blowing and motor against the steep chop for several miles before we can round East Chop and head west back to Newport.  With only a small reef in our sails, we broad reach back to Newport, and with the help of a favorable current, see speeds up to 10 knots on this exhilarating sleigh ride in drizzle and fog.

We arrive back in Newport to find that there are no mooring balls available. Others who are trying to find safe harbor in this freak summer nor’easter have filled the balls and taken the more desirable anchoring spots. We settle for a safe but not very protected anchorage and spend the night grabbing hand-holds just to walk around inside the boat. The next morning isn’t much better.  The wind is howling, and it is pouring rain.  Unfortunately, we have errands to run and another round of laundry to do. The 15 minute dinghy ride is downright miserable, and we spend the rest of the day somewhere between damp and drenched.  It seems a shame to take our bags of clean and dry laundry back out on the water – they won’t be clean and dry for long.  But, wait, there’s a clearing in the storm in an hour or so.  Thus, we have an early dinner at a nearby restaurant, leisurely eating until the rain turns into more of a mist, then making a dash for it.  The laundry is double bagged in plastic garbage bags, and we don ankle length ponchos for the trip to the boat.  Ignoring the dripping foul weather gear and ponchos, we have made it back dry.

The next day is our future daughter-in-law, Beth’s, wedding shower at a location about 45 minutes west of Newport.  We need a rental car to get there and pick one up early in the morning. That gives me several hours to do some power shopping by car. Between Walmart and Stop and Shop I spend almost $500 on groceries and supplies that should tide us over into the fall.  Shopping by car is a real treat, but getting the groceries from the car to the boat is a whole different story.  I find one of the few parking spots near the water and Burt pulls the dinghy up to a retaining wall where the waves are unfortunately splashing and threatening to swamp the boat.  I lower the groceries, bag by bag, over the wall with a long rope while Burt rescues them from the waves and deposits them in the dinghy.  It takes two trips to the mothership to eventually empty the car, but it will be worth the effort in the long term.  The bottom line is that cruising isn’t always like the photos in the sailing magazines – sometimes it can be a real pain in the neck. On the plus side, the shower is lovely, and we get to spend the remainder of the day and evening with Beth and Bryan.

Our time in southern New England has come to a close.  The next morning we bid farewell to Newport and begin the trip further north to Maine. Forty miles later, we find ourselves in Marion, MA, an attractive sailing community at the northern end of Buzzard’s Bay. The harbor is jammed packed with moored boats, and the marina’s launch has to lead us to a vacant mooring ball as we would never have found it on our own. We take a long walk through this laid back town.  This is not a tourist town, but rather a community of year-round residents.  The water front homes are lovely and well maintained. The oldest neighborhood dates from the 1820’s to 1840’s when successful whaling families resided there.  The liveliest spot in town is the Beverly Yacht Club (home of the biannual Marion to Bermuda Race) where a weekend regatta is just being concluded.  And, perhaps, someday some one will explain why the yacht club in Marion, MA is called Beverly, but the yacht club in Beverly, MA is called Jubilee. I’m confused!

Cruising in Southern New England

Currently, it is not the best time to be cruising in New England.   A low pressure trough has parked itself along the eastern seaboard providing a menu of humidity, drizzle, fog, and thunderstorms in no specific order.  Every couple of days we get a brief period of pleasant weather, but, like clockwork, the dismal funk returns. It has been over a month since any significant weather front has passed through, and a good cold front is what we need to change this pattern.

Meanwhile, we make the best of the situation. Port Washington provides an opportunity to shop at a huge grocery store with its own dinghy dock, quite a memorable find. After we are rejuvenated, we head further east to Oyster Bay on Long Island.  

 

One of the swank yacht clubs at Oyster Bay

And the hundred and some foot yacht from the Netherlands anchored just off the yacht club. Boats this size need to have a red light at the top of their masts to warn low flying aircraft.

This is the upscale location of Theodore Roosevelt’s home Sagamore Hill. Teddy was an interesting character, and I am anxious to visit this National Historical Site.  We tie the dinghy along a seawall and walk up a steep road to Sagamore Hill.  Unfortunately, the house itself is closed for renovations, but we are free to stroll the grounds and visit an informative museum. 

Sagamore Hill under renovation for the next several years

While Roosevelt was president, he greatly expanded the Navy.  Once the fleet was complete, he had all the ships painted white (a sign of peaceful intent) and arranged for them to sail around the world on a good will mission. Prior to leaving, he reviewed the Great White Fleet as it sailed into and anchored in Oyster Bay. Now, Oyster Bay is relatively small and the fleet was huge, so it is hard to envision what a spectacle that would have been.

Next stop is a friend’s mooring in the Thimble Islands on the Connecticut coast just east of New Haven.  It is tricky navigating through the rocky islands and ledges in the growing fog.  We find the mooring and decide to remain on the boat rather than launch the dinghy and explore – it has started to drizzle and we enjoy the surrounding views just fine from our cockpit.  The Thimble Islands remind us of the Bay of Islands in the North Channel of Lake Huron.  Each pink granite islet sports a home of varying size from small cottages to outright mansions.  One very wealthy family is in the process of buying up all the available islands.  If you see a flag pole topped with a shamrock flag, it indicates that property is part of the family’s holdings, and there are a lot of shamrocks to be seen.  It is a quaint and, with the fog, mystical place to spend a night.

Foggy Thimble islands with a house sporting a shamrock flag in the background

We move further east to Groton/New London where both our son Bryan and his fiancée, Beth, work. Again, it is foggy and at times very rainy. As we motor past Bryan’s office building (the former world headquarters for Pfizer), he and his office mates claim to be in the windows madly waving at us.   

Bryan's office - we're too far away to see everyone waving

We take a New London municipal mooring and meet up with the kids for dinner on the town.  We find a decent restaurant, but New London seems a bit rough around the edges, and we leave the next morning.

In contrast, our next destination, Newport, is anything but rough around the edges.  As we work our way into the harbor, we pass the historic yacht Ticonderoga heading to the ocean.  Interestingly, we met the grandson of the original owner this past winter in the Bahamas. 

Ticonderoga motors past us with one of the Newport mansions in the background

Newport is already packed in anticipation of the fourth of July, and we can only find anchoring room just north of the harbor, making for a long dinghy ride into the cruisers’ facilities.  But, the ride requires we pass by the docks of the world renown Newport Ship Yard. Each day the collection of mega yachts and race boats changes.  Rambler, the boat that blew away all the competition in the recent Annapolis to Newport race, is there for a few days. Two restored motor yachts (vintage 1910’s) over 100 feet long are tied up. A slew of charter mega sailboats that work the Caribbean in the winter are docked.  We see a new ketch around 150 feet long, that is being commissioned, docked on the outside.  With very traditional lines, it sports gorgeous varnished wood cabins, carbon fiber masts and booms, and the ultimate in high tech rigging.

Traditional lines plus high tech engineering equal a real knockout

Varnish work that requires sunglasses

 And, out in the harbor on a mooring is one of my favorites, Whitehawk, a beautifully restored wooden ketch.   

Whitehawk on her mooring in Newport

Yes, if you are a boat aficionado, Newport is the place to hunt eye candy.  We stay for several days, enjoying the parade of boats and fireworks on the fourth, and then are joined by Beth and Bryan for a daysail down the bay and more fireworks from Jamestown across the bay. 

We are trying to race against this modern rendition of a traditional schooner, heading into the Newport Shipyard. Needless to say, we were creamed.

Newport is definitely one of our favorite cruising stops!

The holiday is over and the crowds have left, so we make our way over to Jamestown, where it isn’t so busy, to refuel, and then have a lovely sail, beating to windward to Block Island.  It may be hazy, but there is no fog or rain, and we are totally enjoying the ride. Salt Pond (New Harbor) is mostly filled with mooring balls, but we are able to find a niche in which to anchor.  We immediately launch the dinghy and find our friends on Amici who are anticipating our arrival.  It doesn’t take much arm twisting to convince them to join us at the local watering hole, The Oar, for a mudslide, a Block Island tradition that confirms we have arrived. As we are anchored near the harbor entrance, we enjoy watching all the boats come and go.

Brilliant, Mystic Seaport's restored training boat, hoists anchor while under sail and leaves a very foggy Block Island

We visit a nearby beach, Burt does some biking (I have torn something in my leg and am on injured reserve), and we socialize with friends, but the weather is mostly foggy and rainy, limiting our enjoyment of this lovely island. 

A front is forecasted to come through tonight, and we are hoping that will clear out the nasty weather and end our month of “funk”.